The Broken Road

Tisha--Thank you for what you said about my writing :) Goten and Trunks are both confusing and selfish. Well said. And Gohan is selfless to a fault, but that's exactly what it can be sometimes. A fault. Who will end up together at the end? *Sigh* What to do, what to do . . . Guess it will be up to Trunks to decide :)

Iuvenes--Yay! I responded to your longer review via email so I won't repeat it here, but yeahhh... No action for our poor, sex-starved hero just yet. Aw, but that will just make it all the better down the "Road" ;-)

Jocelyn--It's so true what you said about Goku in the anime. And I'm glad you didn't find the flashbacks disconcerting. I assure you I know where I'm going from here! I agree that Trunks is growing up more quickly than Goten. Maybe because he's a little bit older. Or just more mature, I don't know. I could never turn Bulma into a bitch :-P I like her too much. She is safe, lol, now Videl on the other hand... Ah, what you said about Vegeta made me happy. I couldn't bring myself to write him as a heartless father because I don't think he is. Not even in canon. Well, at least from the Buu years forward.

avril27--LOL to "I knew you were gay before you were born." Indeed, hehehe. Anyway, I'm glad you liked the story the flashbacks told, cuz that's exactly what I was hoping to do with them. Yeahhh, you're not kidding about the baggage. Talk about issues!

Cynergy--I totally thought about sending him on holiday, lol, I swear. Maybe if they can work all this out. They'll certainly have earned it. I'm thinking tropical climate, hot sun, very few clothes, and pina coladas for all :-P

Macha--Buckle up, babe ;-) It's sort of a wild ride. Hopefully fun, though, and not just dizzying. I don't know, lol. What you said about Bulma made me happy and I'm glad that you appreciated the purpose of the flashbacks. As for Vegeta, indeed he has changed over the years.

InuGuardian--Awwww! Thank you for your comments, especially what you said about my writing. You don't know how much it means. You didn't think you'd ever see the day where a moment between Vegeta and Trunks would be written? It's in the anime, silly :-P Right before he dies during Buu. Makes me cry every time. Oh and if it makes you feel any better, I definitely cry writing every chapter. This one included. But I hope that it makes you laugh as well :) Anyway, YEAH VEGETA!

Velvet--As always, thanks for your comments :) You have been with me since the beginning and I'm glad to see you are still here! Yes, Goten and Goku have a lot of stuff to work on, if Goku can open his eyes and recognize it.

catgirl26-- :D Thanks for reading! Do I remember you telling me that Mademoiselle recommended you to do so? I really should be paying her. Anyway, what you said about Chapter 12 made my effing day. Amazing :)


The Angry Buddha--Again, about the flashbacks, I'm glad that you recognized their significance and that they did what they were supposed to do as far as highlighting that vulnerability. And oh yeah, a not-so-perfect Goku? In the words of Jack Nicholson, Is there any other kind? :-P

Camui--As usual, you kill me! Hang tight for the steamy love scene ;-) And just be happy that your room is so cold! My central air is broken and I am seriously on the verge of puking because it's so hot... I'm glad that what Vegeta said made sense to you...and hopefully, to the readers in general.

VixenzxMasqueradex--Ahhhhh I love your review! It was so stream-of-conciousness and great to read. Especially what you said at the end. That was really sweet of you to say. Lol to throwing in the white towel. I do try to keep you guys guessing ;-) As far as Goku and Vegeta's reversed roles, I guess that a lot of authors do write them the other way around, but really, this is the only way I can see them. Maybe I'm ass-backwards, haha, but it's just the way I perceive their characters. I hope you did well on your test!

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A/N: Thank you, marc, for pre-reading for my many typos! (And for threatening my life--it really is motivating.) xo

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Chapter 15

Trunks returned to the apartment he shared with Gohan on Sunday evening after dinner with his parents. It was clear that Vegeta had filled Bulma in on their little father-son chat because she looked at him all through dinner with concern and sympathy, gave his arm a reassuring squeeze every time she passed by, and repeatedly promised that she loved him ‘no matter what.’ And even though he had answered with an embarrassed ‘Mother, stop,’ in reality his parents’ support meant a lot. Bulma had suggested that the teen stay at Capsule Corp. for awhile, but he wanted to go back home. He couldn’t just curl up and sulk while his mommy took care of him forever. He was a grown man after all.

Besides, what if Gohan came back?

But by Thursday night, there was still no sign of his roommate. And with each passing day, the royal demi’s hope of making amends dwindled. He could have sought Gohan out, and the thought had crossed his mind many times during the week. There were only so many places the other man could be. But Trunks knew that if Gohan hadn’t come home, it was with good reason. The elder Son wasn’t the type to hide from his problems, so his absence could only mean one thing: that he decidedly did not wish to see the teen prince.

Trunks had thought about cornering his roommate at Capsule Corp., too, but he just didn’t have the energy anymore. It felt like he had been running at full speed for weeks. First, running away from his problems with Goten, and then running straight into new ones. Now everything had caught up with him and he was just plain tired.

Tired and alone.

The silence of the empty apartment was deafening and it had tormented him for the last four days. It gave him no choice but to reflect and face truths he should have faced weeks ago. Before their fight, Trunks had done everything in his power to avoid admitting that his world came unglued when Goten left. And the desire to fill the void his absence created had rendered nothing off limits; least of all Gohan. But Trunks had never considered how his actions might affect the two brothers. And even though his roommate had become so much more than just a convenient distraction, the teen’s own recklessness had likely doomed them before they had a chance to begin.

As for the younger Son, when Trunks thought about him now, it was with cynical resignation. What lay ahead of them was a daunting uphill road to recovery. Each would have to pick up the pieces of his life and put himself back together.

Separately.

Two distinct and unconnected individuals where a strong unit had once been.

Goten would have his wish of individuality fulfilled but at what cost? Trunks wondered. He doubted if the two of them would ever be friends again. Still, he couldn’t help but feel that the road would be easier for Goten somehow. He’d already found someone new to help him down that path. The demi-Saiyan prince, on the other hand, wasn’t sure he would ever find his way. A lifetime of memories shared with the youngest Son that had once defined him now held him back; stopped him from being able to make the commitment he wanted to make to Gohan. That he needed to make if there was ever to be any chance for them.

The first cut was deep, it seemed, and he resented his old friend for leaving him stuck in this prison; unwilling to go back yet unable to move on.

As for the two brothers, Trunks was sure they had repaired their relationship by now. He imagined them comforting each other by mutually agreeing on what an insufferable bastard he was. Neither one had made any attempt to contact him and so, if the last week had been any indication, it looked like he really was the expendable one.

The teen slumped over the papers that were strewn about the dining room table and read the same sentence for what must have been the millionth time. Tomorrow he was supposed to make his presentation to Capsule’s would-be investors and it was too late to ask someone else to cover it. He had spent weeks becoming familiar with the numbers and projections regarding the company’s proposed research. It would be difficult for someone less familiar with it to answer the questions he was sure the venture capitalists would have.

In truth, it was good to have something to take his mind off recent events, but his inability to concentrate was frustrating. His first mistake had been choosing this particular chair at the table. The last time he was in it, he’d been straddling his roommate. And yes, the empty apartment had left him with plenty of time to think about that, too. Trunks leaned back in the chair and shoved his hips toward the front with an exasperated sigh, running both hands through his hair. Then he picked up a pen and tapped it agitatedly on the table, willing himself to focus.

The royal demi was on edge and jumped when the telephone rang. The shrill sound cut harshly through the silence he had become accustomed to. He watched the red LCD light on the phone blink in time with the ringer as he crossed the dining room.

“Hello?” the teen was tentative as he lifted the receiver to his ear.

“Sir, I’m calling up from the lobby. You have a visitor here. A young lady.”

Trunks sighed, knowing he should be happy that someone cared enough about him to come by, but lamenting that it wasn’t the person he so badly hoped would do so.

“I’m not expecting anybody and I’m very busy. Please, tell whoever it is I’m indisposed.” With that, he dropped the phone back onto its base and started across the dining room to where he’d been studying his notes. He’d barely gotten to his seat when the phone rang again. This time, sure that it was no one important, the teen answered with a distinct sense of annoyance. “Yes?”

“I’m terribly sorry, sir, but she’s quite insistent. It’s a Miss Kim. Says she’s a school friend—.” Trunks heard the sounds of a struggle on the other end of the line. “No, Miss, you can’t—!”

“Trunks!?” A female voice that he immediately recognized took the place of the older gentleman. “Where have you and Goten been all week? I’m worried about you guys and I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on! I’m sorry to just show up at your door, but I don’t have your phone number and I don’t know where Goten lives. I just need to talk to you for a few minutes,” she promised. Then added, “Please?”

The royal demi was taken aback for a moment by the urgency of her tone. He hadn’t set foot on campus since the Thursday before except for five minutes on Monday morning to submit his withdrawal letter. Bulma didn’t know about that part yet, but there was just no way he could continue going to school with Goten. And apparently the other demi had much the same idea.

“Earth to Trunks! Are you there?”

“Yes, yes,” the teen shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. “I’ll come down to the lobby. Just wait for me there. And, geez, try not to make any more of a scene!” he pleaded before hanging up.

Trunks made his way down the hall to his room deciding to ignore the rest of the note cards that were littering the table. It wasn’t as though he’d been making any progress anyway. He smoothed his hair in the full-length mirror that hung near his closet and was just pulling on his second shoe when the phone rang demandingly yet again. He hopped down the hall on one foot, trying to pull the leather over his heel and nearly lost his balance reaching for the receiver.

“I-am-com-ing!” he accentuated each syllable with marked irritation, and there was a moment of surprised silence on the other end of the line.

The caller cleared his throat. “Trunks Briefs?”

“Uh . . . .” The demi-Sayian’s eyes darted back and forth across the empty room as he hesitated. “Yes?”

“My name is Basil Goddard, dean of sciences at Weston University.”

Trunks slapped the palm that wasn’t holding the phone to his forehead. What a royal asshole these people must think he was by now! Really, if there was any mercy in the world, Dende would strike him dead right where he stood.

“I hope I’m not bothering you?”

“Uh, no,” the teen squeaked out, embarrassed, and moved the hand on his face to the back of his head in a nervous habit. “No, not at all!”

“Well, in that case, I’d like to inform you that you’ve been accepted for admission into our prestigious engineering program. Normally we just send out a letter,” he said dryly, “but I suppose because you’re such an important legacy the university president asked me to call you personally.”

“Wow,” Trunks couldn’t hide his surprise. “Thank you so much.”

“Oh, it wasn’t my decision,” the dean quickly informed him. “But apparently the admissions committee believes that test scores and family connections are more important than essay answers.”

“Heh . . . lucky me,” the teen replied sheepishly. This guy sounded like he had a real chip on his shoulder and Trunks vaguely wondered how miserable he would be able to make him as head of the department. But at the moment, it was the only bit of good news he’d had in what felt like forever and he clung to it. “I really look forward to starting in the spring.”

“Your admission packet should arrive in the mail within a few days. Fill out all of the enclosed forms and return them to me as soon as possible. You’ll report to my office the first day of the semester.”

“Yes, sir.”

After they said their goodbyes, Trunks hung up the phone with a glimmer of hope. So the guy was a hardass, but at least he could start at a new school in a few months. Perhaps he could move into the dorms and start a new life there, make some new friends, forget that Goten and Gohan ever existed and live a miserable, empty life as a shell of his former self!

Yes. Fantastic.

The glimmer of hope was, needless to say, fleeting.

Trunks grabbed his jacket from where it hung near the door and made his way down to the lobby. “Oh my god, you’re alive,” Kim observed as he stepped out of the elevators. But she regretted her sarcastic tone as she took a longer look at her one-time classmate. The dark circles under his eyes made his face look blanched and the redness surrounding the irises darkened formerly brilliant blue eyes. He didn’t fill out his bootcut jeans or clingy linen sweater as well as she remembered either. “Boy, you don’t look so hot.”

“Filters, Kim. Filters.” The girl had an annoying habit of saying whatever was on her mind and the last thing he needed was to hear about how awful he looked at the moment. “I’m just tired,” Trunks informed her, then motioned so that she would follow him outside.

“I can’t imagine why you’d be sleep-deprived, considering you’re not attending school anymore.” While they walked briskly down the street away from the apartment, she produced the latest copy of the WCU Reporter. Once again, there was a picture of him on the front page that Trunks didn’t remember anyone taking. The headline read, ‘Not Good Enough for Trunks?: Ambivalent Heir Withdraws from WCU.’

The teen rolls his eyes. “That’s ridiculous. I am not—.”

Ambivalent. Actually, he was . . . . Quite.

He waved the paper out of his line of vision with one hand. “Whatever. They don’t even know me.”

“Well, no,” Kim said matter-of-factly as they stopped on the sidewalk in front of the North Side Diner. “No one does.”

Even as Trunks pulled open the glass door for her and they stepped into the noisy restaurant, he figured the people who didn’t know him should probably consider themselves lucky. He didn’t exactly have the best track record with friends. And, of all the qualities he had inherited from Vegeta, being a bit standoffish was probably the least offensive one. Still, he didn’t appreciate the subtext in the coed’s remark; the insinuation that he was some stuck-up rich boy who didn’t play well with others. The truth was that, no matter how friendly he might be, no one could really know him anyway. No one could really understand the things he had been through or the things he had seen. No one, that is, besides the other two people in the world who were exactly like him.

But seeing as how those two were M.I.A., he decided to give the girl a chance.

“Look, if you really want to know me,” the demi-Saiyan began after they were seated in a booth near the back and had ordered various types of fried food for dinner, “then I’ll give you an exclusive interview. You’re wondering why I withdrew from school this week?” He nodded toward the newspaper that now lay on the table. “It’s because Goten and I had a fight. We’re not friends anymore and since he was the only reason I came to WCU in the first place, I’ve decided to leave. I was planning to wait ‘til the end of the semester, but things have changed.”

“I knew it!” Kim declared, snapping her fingers. She saw the quizzical look on Trunks’s face. “I mean, when school first started, I got the impression that you guys were sorta . . . closer than most best friends. I told Tiffany that I thought you came here to be with Goten but she didn’t believe me.”

“Insight doesn’t seem to be her strong point.”

The coed played with her hair anxiously before continuing. “So, then, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that you weren’t kidding that day in class when you said that . . . uh, that Goten had, um . . . .” Her already tanned skin colored noticeably and Trunks squinted at her trying to figure out why she was having so much trouble finding words. Then he remembered the last day he attended classed with Goten and how the girls had giggled at his lascivious announcement about his abused ass.

The teen broke into a sudden smile. “No,” he laughed but then reconsidered it. “Well, I guess I was half kidding. Let’s just say it’s been a long time since Goten cared enough about fucking me to make it hurt.”

Kim blushed deeper at her suspicions being confirmed in such detail, but Trunks could honestly remember a time when things had been so much more passionate between them. He shrugged it off. “Anyway, that was the last time we were together. He had barely rolled off of me before saying that he wanted to see other people. Told me he needed to ‘find himself’ or something, and by Monday, he was making out with your roommate in the library.”

“So do you think . . . I mean, does Goten like girls?”

“I don’t think he discriminates,” the Capsule heir conjectured bitterly. “He’s an equal opportunity asshole.”

“Trunks!” Kim admonished him. “Don’t talk about him that way.”

The teen looked across the table at her, surprised by the protectiveness in her tone before he gasped in sudden understanding. “Oh my god. You like him, don’t you? That’s why you want to know.” He clicked his tongue, but his tone was amused. “You little hussy. Falling for your roommate’s boyfriend.”

“Shut up, I don’t like him! It’s just that he was at our place all the time and, I dunno, I guess he kinda started to grow on me. A little.” She rolled her eyes as though she was annoyed she’d let it happen. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not trying to get involved in this screwed up little triangle you guys have going on.” She lifted one finger and motioned towards Trunks, implicating both him and Goten and whoever else they might decide to get involved from one affair to the next. “Besides, unlike Tiffany, I don’t date gay guys.”

“That’s a smart move sweetheart,” the waitress said as she put their respective plates of food down in front of them. Kim laughed feebly then dipped her head so that the long, straight bangs that weren’t swept up in her ponytail hid the embarrassment on her face. Waitresses always had the best timing.

But Trunks was too caught up in his thoughts to notice the interruption. “You know, I think Goten actually believes I tricked him into being with me. He acted like he needed to get away from me to figure things out or something. But he forgets that he was the one to kiss me all those years ago. That he was all a-fucking-bout it when we were growing up. Then he just freaks out on me after everything that—.” He reigned himself in, glancing almost sheepishly at his company. He had no idea why he was telling her all this.

“I know his change of heart must have been really hard for you to deal with,” she said gently when the server was out of earshot. “But when you were younger he might not have understood the significance of what you guys were doing, or realized that it made him different. Maybe when he figured out that he would be labeled for being with you he wanted to make sure it was real. Not everyone is as comfortable laughing in the face of social norms as you seem to be.”

“I just wonder if he realizes what he gave up to make his mommy happy. Because I really loved him. I would have done absolutely anything for him.”

“Hmm. But that’s not really true, is it?” his companion asked artlessly. “Cause he asked you to let him go. And that was something you weren’t willing to do.”

She chewed and swallowed a battered mushroom then shrugged while Trunks stared at her. “It just seems like things might’ve turned out differently if you’d given him the chance to recognize that he loved you all on his own. It didn’t take long. In the end, he even told Tiffany that he’d made a mistake.”

“What do you mean ‘in the end?’”

“When he broke up with her last weekend,” Kim explained as though it should have been apparent. She licked some crumbs off her fingers. “If they were still together, don’t you think I would have asked her where he was? She deleted all of his contact information from her phone in post-break up hissy fit.”

The Capsule heir dropped his eyes to the table. “Last weekend?”

“Yeah. I’d left them alone to go get Sunday brunch at the cafeteria. But she came running in crying ten minutes later.”

Trunks spoke softly, as though he was talking to himself. “Goten came to my place that day.”

“To make up?” Kim inquired in an equally low tone.

“I dunno. We never got that far. I was sort of . . . .” He blinked his way out of the trance-like state he seemed to be in. “I was with someone else when he showed up.”

His classmate grimaced apprehensively. “You mean WITH with?” and the lavender head nodded affirmatively.

“And that’s not all.” The teen chewed on his fingernail. “Do you remember when you taught me how to make that stir fry for my roommate?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” She laughed shortly. “I remember thinking that the last time a guy had tried that hard to impress me he was trying to get into my pan—.” She stopped suddenly. “Oh! Is that who you were with?”

He nodded again.

“But, wait, didn’t you say that your roommate was . . . Goten’s . . . ?” He could see the gears in the young woman’s head turning before she put two hands over her mouth. “Oh, Trunks. You didn’t.”

“You can save the lecture,” he insisted preemptively, leaning back against the booth where they were seated. “Because I’ve already lost the only two people who ever meant anything to me and I can’t imagine a harder way to have learned my lesson.”

Still, she insisted on adding insult to injury. “Did you . . . do it on purpose?”

“No!” the demi-Saiyan cried, the question reopening an all-too-recent wound. How so many people could think him capable of such a thing was beyond his comprehension. “I would never . . . .”

“I believe you,” his classmate promised after seeing the hurt flash in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Trunks soon became resigned. “Anyway, the point is it happened, and if Gohan ever shows up at our apartment again it’ll probably be to move his stuff out. As for Goten and me . . . . Well, I think you can see why we can’t go to school together anymore. I don’t know what’ll happen when we see each other again. He broke like six of my ribs the last time.”

“You must be kidding.” She made a face. “I don’t see Goten as much of a fighter. And besides, you seem fine.”

“It’s obvious you don’t know either one of us very well. But since you’re so interested, I’ll tell you the truth. See, our fathers are aliens descended from a warrior race called the Saiyans. And since Goten and I share some of that DNA, we’re actually really proficient fighters. We can also use technology developed on our fathers’ home planet to heal much faster than a normal human could. So that’s why these circumstances may not seem to make sense to you. But I assure you, he really did a number on me.”

Kim just stared at him for a long moment. Then she threw her arms out in defeat and decided she was done trying to figure this kid out. “Well, now I understand why you don’t talk to the newspaper. You probably want to keep it on the down-low that you’re out of your damn mind.”

Trunks smirked.

“So,” the coed spoke again after a few quiet moments, “what happens now?”

“I don’t know,” Trunks answered. “I found out tonight that I got into Weston, so I’m leaving. Starting over, I hope,” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I have no idea what the other two will do. What about you?”

The girl lifted her palms again, this time in a helpless gesture. “What can I do? Besides just keep on going to school, hope that Goten comes back at some point, and try to stay friends with you, him, and Tiffany, despite the fact that all of you hate each other.”

“I bet you regret the day you ever introduced yourself to us,” Trunks guessed, shooting her a discerning smile.

“Nah. Strangely enough, I don’t. Hey, and you know, it’s funny. I almost went to Weston, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean I got in but didn’t go. Kinda like you.”

“So what’s your excuse?”

“Mine is simple. Couldn’t afford it. It’s just me and my dad at home and he’s already working two jobs to put me through city college. I never told him that I got in because it would have made him feel too bad. It was just something I needed to prove to myself.”

“It’s a shame,” Trunks lamented. “Sure would have been nice to know someone else there.” His eyes lit up after a moment’s contemplation. “Hey, you know, Capsule has a scholarship program!”

“Don’t do me any favors, Briefs,” Kim said, bristling. “I’m not about to give you something like that to hold over my head. The first time you get mad at me, I’ll lose my funding!”

The demi-Saiyan huffed. Honestly, first Gohan and now her! These people had no idea how to recognize gratuitous generosity when they saw it.

“I wouldn’t fit in with all those prep school types anyway,” Kim continued before he could voice his protestations. “No offense to you personally. But I’m happy at WCU.”

“Suit yourself,” he pouted.

“Oh, come on now. You must be really excited,” his classmate coaxed him. “I’ll take you out for a drink after this so we can celebrate your future in the Ivy Leagues properly.”

Trunks momentarily brightened at the invitation, not caring if it was issued only by way of apology. But he quickly reconsidered. “Nah, I’d better not. I have a big meeting in the morning with some high profile investment bankers. We’re really depending on their financial support for our newest department and I don’t wanna screw it up.”

“Okay. Another time then?”

“Sure.”

“Hey, what does Capsule need those guys for anyway? Couldn’t your mom just fund the department herself?”

“Well, yeah, but you never want to tie up your own resources in corporate enterprises. There are liability issues to consider and the possibility of liquidation of your personal assets if the venture fails—.

Kim held up one hand. She was already getting a headache. “Forget I asked! I’ll just take your word for it. Sounds to me like you know what you’re talking about.”

The teen sighed, slightly less confident. “Let’s hope they see it that way tomorrow.”

***

By the time 10:00 a.m. rolled around, Gohan had been staring at the clock in his office for at least forty-five minutes willing the hands to stop moving. Trunks’s presentation would start in a few minutes and he had avoided seeing the royal demi for as long as possible after speaking with Goten earlier that week. He had firmly decided to sublimate his growing feelings for his roommate and focus his energy on helping the boys to repair their friendship. His recent actions, however unwittingly, had hurt Goten and he was sure that he could never make it up to his brother. If there was one thing he couldn’t bear, it was letting down the people he loved and he only hoped that this self-imposed penance could quiet his screaming conscience.

Gohan had already confessed everything to Vegeta when the oldest Saiyan sought him out the weekend before. The prince told him that, when Trunks named both brothers on the list of people who’d never forgive him, it hadn’t been hard to figure out what happened. But he hadn’t assuaged Gohan’s guilt at all, conjecturing that, ‘When the Woman asked you to take care of him, I don’t think that’s what she had in mind.’

But when Vegeta had shared his opinion that the boys wouldn’t get hung up on such ‘petty, stupid things’ if they had real problems to worry about, it gave Gohan an idea. Something that he hoped would give the two teens enough of a push to get over this hurdle. Piccolo helped him work out the details and Vegeta went along with it mostly because he was in disappointed with the general lack of excitement on Earth in the last ten years and how it had contributed to his son’s ‘slack attitude.’

How the Saiyan prince had gotten Bulma to agree, Gohan had no idea. But now that the plans were in place, there was no going back, and he was sure that it was the best way to orchestrate the younger demis’ reconciliation.

Provided that nothing went wrong, of course.

Now it was his duty to lure the teen to Bulma’s lab so they could set things in motion. Despite his apprehension at seeing his old roommate, Gohan had volunteered for the job, hoping it would give them a few minutes alone to have the talk he knew they needed to have. And besides, he had long ago promised Bulma that he would attend this meeting to provide backup for the teen and, regardless of everything else that had happened, Gohan knew Trunks had worked hard on this project and wanted to see him succeed.

His biggest source of unease as he stood up and shrugged off his white lab coat in favor of a navy blazer, was whether he’d be able to keep the promises he had made to himself when he finally saw Trunks again. Those walls that he’d once constructed with so much success had proven no match for the demi-Saiyan prince, and Gohan wasn’t quite sure how to isolate his unwelcome feelings now. Trunks had been able to tear down his defenses before, and he feared that the emotions he’d been determined to bury might betray him when face-to-face with the teen.

Unable to put things off any longer, Gohan made his way across the room. Before leaving the office, he straightened his shirt and tie, then loosened the tie a bit and ran a hand through his spiky black hair. He looked at the clock again, took a deep breath, and headed out of his lab for the elevators. When he had made his way nearly to the top of the corporate high rise, he came upon the reception area outside the conference room. There was a buffet of breakfast foods set up and, though he shied away from it due to the queasy feeling in his stomach, he gratefully accepted the bottled water Meena handed him as he entered.

The dark-haired demi was tense as he pushed open the double glass doors to the board room. There were about a dozen men and women milling about and making conversation with each other before the presentation began. Trunks was there, of course, at the front of the room. Standing behind the podium, he looked more serious than Gohan had seen him in a long time—maybe ever. Totally absorbed in his slides; probably looking them over one last time. He was well-dressed in a grey suit, royal blue shirt, and tasteful striped tie. Lavender bangs fell over blue eyes that were narrowed intently and Gohan couldn’t help but watch him as he frowned at the screen, drowning out everyone else in the room while he concentrated.

Outshining everyone else in the room without trying at all.

Gohan wondered if it was because he hadn’t seen Trunks in so long that he was having trouble taking his eyes off of him. Perhaps the teen simply looked different to him in some unascertainable way now that Gohan had known him so intimately. Or maybe it was just as it had been that day in the dressing room. He had been unable to deny even then that the boy was hard to resist. And he was, Gohan had since learned, even harder to forget.

“Alright, let’s get started.” Trunks spoke authoritatively from the podium without looking up and Gohan was surprised that the sound of his voice had a similar effect as did seeing him again. Despite how hard the elder Son tried to concentrate on the subject at hand, he found himself neurotically wondering whether Trunks had thought about him in the last week and how the other demi would react to seeing him for the first time since the morning after. Gohan cast his eyes at the floor and cursed his own ridiculousness. This was exactly why he wasn’t a one-night-stand sort of person!

As it turned out, though, he didn’t have to wait long for his answers.

“If anybody has any questions before we begin I’ll be happy to field them qui—.” Gohan looked up when the teen dropped off midsentence to find that Trunks was staring at him wide-eyed. “Quickly,” he finished softly, eyes still trained on Gohan’s face.

While the two of them regarded each other, oblivious to their surroundings, a tall blond man in the front row stood, apparently taking Trunks up on his offer to entertain questions.

“Kit Duncan, Goldman, Sachs, New York,” the blond introduced himself and his company gruffly. “I’ll ask the question everyone wants to know before we bother to sit here for the next hour. How soon will we see a return on this investment and how large can we expect it to be? What’s the bottom line for our clients? That’s what we’re all here to find out, am I right?” A few low mumbles of agreement could be heard around the room.

Trunks didn’t seem to have heard anything despite the fact that he was only a few feet away from the guy and Gohan panicked as he realized his presence was not helping Trunks at all. Rather, it was having the opposite effect. The teen seemed transfixed. As the noticeable silence in the room stretched to an awkward length, the older demi stood up and cleared his throat. He could remember portions of the presentation from the day he tried to lift it from Trunks’s computer and was familiar with the numbers from working closely with Capsule’s research team.

“As one of the people overseeing the development of the new robots, I may be able to shed some light on that,” he offered tentatively. “I can tell you that raw materials for the prototypes have been easy and inexpensive to get, so we don’t anticipate any holdups putting the new products on the market. And because of the low cost of supplies and the high demand we’re expecting, investors should see quick and sizeable returns. But,” he glanced back at the Capsule heir, “I’m sure Mr. Briefs will go into more detail on that.” He tried his best to reassure the other demi with a nod of encouragement. “Presently,” he added with some exigency.

“Er, right,” the younger man agreed. “I was just getting to that. Thank you, uh, Doctor . . . Son.” The teen dragged a hand across his forehead to wipe away a few drops of perspiration then turned to face the projection screen. “Would you hit the lights for me please?” He didn’t turn around.

By the time Gohan had returned to his seat, Trunks appeared to have recovered and began what sounded like a well-practiced speech on his financial projections, supplemented by various illustrations, graphs, and charts. He avoided looking in the other demi’s direction again and, while no one else in the room would have noticed, Gohan was keenly aware of the deliberate behavior.

But when the hour was over, and the assembled investors stood up, clapping enthusiastically and talking amongst themselves about their optimism regarding the enterprise, Gohan found himself smiling all the same. Trunks had done well, and he would run the company one day perhaps even better than Doctor Briefs or Bulma had. Because more than being just a scientist, he had demonstrated a business acumen that neither his mother nor his grandfather had. Gohan was sure the bankers didn’t plan to take the teenaged successor seriously and perhaps expected to intimidate him with their superior experience. But the queue of eager businessmen lining up to introduce themselves to Trunks made it clear he had proven them wrong. And Gohan felt an inexorable swell of pride both at how far Trunks had come and his potential to go further.

“Mr. Briefs, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Meena stepped in the door just then, silencing the room with her announcement. “Your mother’s just called and you’re urgently needed downstairs in her lab. You, too, Mr. Son,” she said, switching to Gohan briefly before addressing Trunks again. “I can leave the gentlemen with your business card if you’d like.”

“Okay,” the teen agreed, looking surprised and a bit worried. He apologized to those who had assembled and shortly followed Gohan out of the room. “Did she say what was wrong?” Trunks inquired when he reached Meena, but the secretary shook her head in the negative. He turned then to his estranged roommate. “Do you know what this is about?”

Gohan mimicked the woman’s answer, shaking his head emphatically and hoping he wouldn’t have to speak. Everyone knew he was a horrible liar. Trunks peered at him with what Gohan could swear was suspicion, but turned towards the door after a moment, apparently deciding to investigate for himself. The elder Son followed close behind and as they left behind the din of the reception area, the rhythmic sounds of their footsteps started to ring in his ears, emphasizing the uncomfortable silence.

“You did a great job in there,” Gohan said sincerely, deciding to break the ice finally as he watched the younger boy press the call button at the elevator.

Trunks blinked lavender eyelashes before shooting him a sidelong glance. “And you have damned fine timing. I’ve been waiting five days to hear from you and you show up now?” The teen’s eyes were narrowed but he sounded more indignant than angry. “Where have you been, Gohan? I’ve been at the apartment every day just—.” Training his eyes on the elevator doors again he clenched his jaw, either unwilling or unable to finish the thought.

“I’m sorry, Trunks,” Gohan said, and he meant it more than the other could know. But it would have been a horrible idea for him to go back to that small apartment where he’d be around the royal demi all the time, not knowing if he’d be able to refrain from crawling into his bed and making it clear just how sorry he was. “I didn’t think it’d be a good idea to see each other,” was all he said as the bell for the lift chimed and they stepped inside together.

Trunks’s demeanor changed as quickly as their surroundings. “Gohan, if it’s because you were mad at me, I need you to know that what Goten said wasn’t true! I would never do that, I swear,” he implored the other man. “You know, you were the only reason I got out of bed most mornings. After he left.” The royal demi’s voice wavered, but as Trunks focused on the digital display in front of him and watched it count down the floors, he realized what precious little time he had to articulate everything he’d begun to comprehend in the last week.

“Being with you, it . . . it meant something to me. More than something, really. It meant everything. And I know I’ve fucked shit up beyond belief,” the teen proclaimed miserably, unable to hold it in any longer even if he’d wanted to. “But I never meant to hurt you. It’s over between me and your brother. I just—I wasn’t ready yet. You were right about that just like you were right about all the other stuff. But I’ll get there,” he promised urgently, trying to catch the older man’s eyes. “I’ll get there for you. And we can take it slower this time. Give Goten a chance to get used to us—.”

“Trunks.” Gohan felt compelled to stop him, though his own voice was strained. He struggled to hide the emotions his roommate’s words evoked. Much as Gohan had suspected, he was unprepared for this encounter. He knew all too well that, one-on-one, Trunks wasn’t the self-assured aspiring CEO that everyone recognized. He was the person Gohan had fallen for; passionate and spirited, troubled if not hopelessly insecure. And the teen’s expression at the moment was just as it had been when he’d blinked up at Gohan from the dining room table, offering the heart on his sleeve. The older demi looked away before the other’s vulnerability could destroy his already failing resolve. “There is no us.”

Undeterred, the Capsule heir reached out and yanked on the elevator’s emergency break, stopping their journey to the ground with a jolt and a loud screech.

“Will you look at me? I’m far from perfect, but something’s changed in me these last few weeks. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it. Even though I screwed up at almost every turn, I feel like you were the one thing I got right in all this. And I know you feel it, too. I saw it,” he insisted, “in your eyes that night.”

Gohan tensed almost imperceptibly but it was more than enough to convince Trunks that he was right. He scrutinized the other man, wondering why it was that he was so utterly bent on self-denial. “Are we right back where we started?” the teen demanded, desperation beginning to creep into his words. “Building walls again?”

Gohan matched the young prince in his stubbornness. “I wish things could have been different, Trunks. I really do. But I just can’t do that to Goten.” That was what it came down to in the end and there was really nothing more to say. The elder Son reached out to disengage the brake and the elevator began to move again while Gohan clasped his hands behind his back. His posture resolute, he glanced at Trunks one last time. “I won’t.”

The tone left no room for argument. But the younger demi found it hard to believe that he had sealed his fate when he was eight; kissing Goten behind a palm tree in Capsule’s indoor garden. An act whose significance he could not possibly have foreseen. The doors opened and the lavender-haired man stepped into the hall first. At last, he turned with a pointed look behind him as they approached their destination.

“Does Goten even know how much you sacrifice for him?”

The teen didn’t expect an answer. He didn’t need one. He already knew his words wouldn’t change anything. To Gohan it didn’t matter if Goten knew. He didn’t do it to gain his brother’s gratefulness or praise. He did it purely and unselfishly for his brother’s benefit. But Trunks was unimpressed.

“Your altruism is flawed, Gohan. Who’s to say that he deserves happiness any more than you? And what about what I want? Or have you already decided that for me?”

The dark-haired demi just stared at the boy obtusely. Why did Trunks insist on challenging him when he was so sure he’d settled on the best course of action? How did he manage, with a few simple questions, to shake Gohan’s very world view to its core? And why in the hell couldn’t he think of any satisfactory answers right now?

Gohan turned his back to the teen, refusing to indulge his misinformed musings. That’s all they were anyway, right? Just Trunks’s way of trying to get to him, he told himself.

“We’d better go,” was all he said before pushing through the swinging doors that led to Bulma’s lab. Leaving Trunks and all of his impudent questions in the hallway, Gohan seriously hoped that the old adage would prove true. The teen would soon be far out of sight and, hopefully, just as far out of mind.